Seven Miscarriages For My Mate
For ten years, I was bound to Julian, my heart tied to a wolf who promised me forever. Seven miscarriages scarred me, each loss cutting deeper. Pregnant again, I trusted Julian-until I saw him with my sister Chloe, cradling their secret pup. Betrayed by him and my family, I survived a fire meant to kill me, saved by healer Lucas. With him, I reclaimed my dance and found true love. Facing Julian's regret and Chloe's vengeance, I built a new life, holding my child, my scars finally healing.
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Chapter 4
"Mom, Dad, you don't believe me either?" I asked, my voice small.
They didn't answer, just sighed heavily. Dad grabbed his newspaper and sank into the living room couch. Mom shuffled to the kitchen to check the soup. I was left standing there, like I didn't belong in my own den.
It's always been this way. I should've known. No matter what Chloe said or did-slapping me, tricking me into that village where I nearly lost everything, or costing me my dancing career-Mom and Dad brushed it off. All she had to do was cry, whimpering, "I was scared you'd cast me out when Sophia came back," and they'd scold her lightly, then let it go.
When she slapped me, it was like that. When she nearly got me violated, same deal. When the healer said my legs would never dance again, they still let her off. They say no parent stops loving their pup, but the pup they love is Chloe, the one they raised.
Back then, Julian was the only one who had my back. He staked his pack honors, demanding Mom and Dad treat me fairly. He swore he'd protect me, keep me from any more pain.
I believed him. But now, watching him guide Chloe upstairs, his voice scolding yet tender, I saw the truth. His heart leaned toward her too.
My chest ached, a dull, throbbing pain. Mom, Dad, Julian-they all lied to me. Chloe's back, out in the open, with everything she could want. And me? I've got nothing. Not even the pup in my belly is allowed to exist.
A bitter laugh escaped me. My whole life, I've been Chloe's stepping stone. Nothing more.
Tears fell, and a sharp pain ripped through my stomach. Warmth spread between my legs, and dizziness hit me hard. I grabbed the wall but collapsed, my strength gone.
"Help! Save my pup!" I gasped.
Julian heard me, rushing back. His face paled when he saw the blood. He scooped me up and ran to the healer's den. As my vision faded, I prayed this pup wouldn't leave me like the others. Not for love, but because it's what a mother does.
When I woke, the healer's den ceiling glared white above me. Julian's worried face hovered close. "Sophia, you okay?"
His concern didn't stir me like it used to. I saw him in my mind, cradling Chloe at the birthing ward, fussing over her and her pup's room, guiding her up the stairs with care I'd never felt. Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I turned away, unable to look at him.
"Sophia, I messed up," he said softly. "I wasn't thinking, and it upset you, put the pup at risk. The healer says this might be our only shot at a pup, but we saved it. If anything happened to you or the pup, I wouldn't know how to go on."
He gently took my hand, avoiding the IV. "I only see Chloe as a sister. Mom and Dad took her in because she's alone with her pup. Don't overthink it. I've already got folks looking for a place for them. Once it's ready, they're gone. Don't be mad, okay? If not for me, think of the pup."
Mom and Dad chimed in, their voices soft. "He's right, Sophia. That pup in you can't take more stress. We've been neglecting you, and we're sorry."
"The healer says you need to stay put," Mom added. "Rest here, and we'll take turns looking after you-me, Dad, and Julian."
I knew their words were empty, but I was too exhausted to argue. I didn't want to face them. "I'm tired," I mumbled, closing my eyes. "I need to rest."
They fell silent, sensing my withdrawal. Then a knock broke the quiet. Chloe.
"Mom, Dad, Julian." she started.
Julian's brow furrowed. "What're you doing here? The den's crawling with germs, and you've got a pup to think about."
Chloe's face was all concern. "Sophia's here because of me. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't check on her." She turned to Mom and Dad. "You two aren't young anymore. You can't pull all-nighters. Go rest. Julian and I've got this."
They glanced at me, seemingly asleep, then thought of the pup back home with just a nanny. They nodded and left. The room grew still, quieter.
Julian looked at Chloe, his voice low. "She's fine. Get back to your pup."
Chloe's head dipped, her voice soft. "I'm glad she's okay. But I came to tell you something else. Alex and I. we're leaving."
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8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.
9.8
Aurora Vale was trained to be a weapon beautiful, precise, and disposable. Recruited as a teenager into a covert intelligence division that officially doesn't exist, Aurora has spent her life seducing secrets out of powerful men and destroying targets without ever pulling a trigger. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. Inside the agency, she is known as The Steel Heart an operative who never fails and never feels.
Until her latest mission. Her target is Valerio Blackthorn, an untouchable crime lord feared even by governments brilliant, disciplined, and impossible to trap. Assigned as his personal bodyguard, Aurora is meant to get close, extract information, and deliver him to a massive takedown operation.
What she doesn't know is that Valerio has already seen the trap. Instead of exposing her, he lets her stay watching, testing, dismantling her carefully crafted tactics with unsettling calm. As the line between hunter and prey blurs, Aurora begins to realize the truth: Valerio is not the monster she was sent to destroy. And the government she serves is far more corrupt than the criminal world she was trained to infiltrate.
When Aurora discovers that the mission is not about justice but about silencing a former ally who refused to be controlled she makes an impossible choice. She betrays the agency. She saves the man she was meant to destroy.
Now branded a rogue agent with a kill on sight order, Aurora is forced into the shadows alongside Valerio. Hunted by her own government and by a ruthless international syndicate seeking revenge, the two must survive a war where trust is dangerous, love is lethal, and freedom comes at a devastating price.
As bullets fly and secrets explode onto the global stage, Aurora must decide who she truly is a weapon, a traitor, or a woman reclaiming her soul. In a world ruled by lies and power, love may be the most dangerous rebellion of all.
9.7
"How do I tell the world that my first orgasm came from my father's son-my brother, and he doesn't know yet?"
Annabel Green, who had caught her first ever lover, James, in bed with Stephanie, her best friend, went on a mission of revenge.
After she found out that the man who she bumped into at the club that night she caught her ex cheating, is actually Stephanie's fiancé-Daniel stroke.
She planned on using him as a tool just to make James regret cheating on her and drive Stephanie insane.
But she had no idea that Daniel was her father's son. By the time she had gotten her revenge, only then did they realize how late it was, because they had both fallen hopelessly in love.
Now the question is who will let each other go? Will Daniel and Annabel agree to part ways just to see their parents happy. Or will their parents actually get a divorce in order to see their children live a happy life?
8.1
I died once. Betrayed, broken, and discarded by the most powerful man in New York.
Now, I'm back. Reborn on the very day my husband, Dante Moretti, handed me an expulsion agreement. But this time, I know his secret. The coldness in his eyes isn't cruelty; it's a slow-acting poison, a betrayal creeping through his veins, fed to him by those closest to him.
This time, I don't cower. I meet his icy command with a slap and an ultimatum: I carry his heir. To cast me out is to sentence his own bloodline to death.
He is the untouchable Don, a king on a poisoned throne, fighting a war within his own mind. I am the ghost of the queen he tried to break, armed with the memories of our enemies' every move.
I won't be a pawn in their game again. I will dismantle them all, from my treacherous sister to the viper he calls a mother. I will be the queen he needs, even if he fights me every step of the way.
It's a vendetta.
7.5
It took seven years for Ethan to convince me I was the center of his universe, and exactly seven weeks for his "business partner," Chloe, to prove I was just a placeholder.
I was the woman who ironed his shirts and managed his schedule, yet she was the one he comforted at 2 AM.
But the real end didn't come with a fight. It came with an explosion.
At a family gathering, a gas heater malfunctioned. Glass shattered, and fire erupted. In that split second of life or death, Ethan didn't look for me.
He threw his body over Chloe.
He shielded her from the flames, cocooning her in his arms, whispering frantically to her while I stood twenty feet away, watching my boyfriend of seven years act like I didn't exist.
When I confronted him later, he didn't apologize. Instead, he let Chloe carve her initials over ours on our anniversary tree.
When I tried to stop them, he shoved me into the dirt to comfort her over a broken nail.
"You are dead to me, Ava," he screamed. "Jealousy makes you ugly."
He thought I would beg. He thought I was an appliance he could unplug and plug back in whenever he wanted. He was arrogant enough to believe I would always be there, waiting for his scraps.
He was wrong.
While he was playing hero to his mistress, I didn't cry.
I booked a one-way ticket to Portland, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished.
By the time he realized the silence in his apartment wasn't peace, but abandonment, I was already gone.
9.2
My husband, Roger Harvey, was a renowned top-tier lawyer in the industry, but he could never remember anything outside of his cases.
He never remembered my birthday or our wedding anniversary.
Every night he stood at the bedroom door and asked politely yet distantly, "Is this the one?"
He could not even remember my name or what I looked like.
To make him "remember" me, I hung our wedding photo on the wall with a label underneath. "Anniversary: May 20."
I put a nameplate on the bedroom door that read "Bedroom."
I even labeled everything in the house with sticky notes that explained in detail how to use each item and its background.
I thought it was a side effect of his high-pressure job, so I never complained.
That changed the day a multi-car pileup sent both me and his childhood friend, Sylvie Gordon, into the emergency room at the same time.
He rushed frantically to Sylvie's bedside and shouted in a clear, urgent voice, "She has tachycardia. She caught a cold last month but no fever."
The nurse handling the rescue grabbed him and asked, "Sir, your wife is also seriously injured. Does she have any medical history or allergies?"
He turned his head, looked at me covered in blood, and shook his head blankly. "I don't remember."
In that moment I finally understood. He was not forgetful. His memory was astonishingly sharp.
He simply reserved that precise, precious memory for someone else.
Everything about me he had never cared to keep in his heart.
This was a dramatic tug-of-war between love and betrayal.
It was a heart-wrenching journey of self-redemption.
Yet when I decided to leave, he was suddenly filled with panic...